


Pitiful Little Human

by magicalxn



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: The Origin | Pokemon Origins
Genre: Blood, Gen, Minor Violence, Self-Hatred, could be green/red if you tilt your head and squint???, mentions of professor oak and red
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalxn/pseuds/magicalxn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd always taunted Red and called him weak, to only hide that he himself was the weak one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pitiful Little Human

Elation. Pure, undiluted, untainted bliss. In that moment when Lance’s final Dragonite had fallen, when the man had walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, a solemn smile fixed in place as he told him what he had accomplished, he was sure that joy was what he was experiencing. He’d never felt happier in his life than he did when he realized he had become the Pokémon Champion.

Those feelings were so far away now, they seemed almost foreign. Lying here, sandwiched between his prized Pokémon and the cold ground of Cerulean Cave, he didn’t feel that warm and glowing triumph he now yearned for. It was only pain, everywhere, even the slightest twitch he gave to try and wriggle out from under his Blastoise sent a searing wave running rampant and white hot over his body.

He could barely breathe; the weight pressing down on him from above was almost crushing him. One arm was pinned to his chest, and the other was under him. He couldn’t reach Blastoise’s pokéball, and by the sound of its shallow breathing above him, it was out cold.

Green’s head hurt terribly. It pounded and throbbed with every passing second, making him wince and grit his teeth. Something warm and wet was trickling down the side of his face, and it didn’t take him long to figure out it was his own blood.

The trainer could feel cold eyes boring into him. Though all he had was a view of the ceiling of the cave, he was sure those slanted menacing eyes were fixed onto him as that thing, that creature, some sort of ultimate Pokémon, watched and observed him, the weak, defenseless human crushed under the weight of his own partner.

Green scoffed. He didn’t care how lowly that Pokémon thought of him for being human. All that mattered to him right now was getting out of this and getting back to his Gramps. He tried again to move his arm, sucking in a breath as the pain cut through him like a knife, shutting his eyes as he felt tears begin to form.

No matter how much it hurt, he wasn’t going to cry because of the pain. It was weak, and he certainly wasn’t weak. He might’ve only been human, but no matter how mortal he was or how much that evil Pokémon scoffed at him, he wouldn’t cry. He just had to move his arm and get a hold of Blastoise’s Poké Ball, recall it, and then send out Pidgeot to fly him home…it was that simple…

But he couldn’t move his arm. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn’t budge, and the more he tried, the more pain he felt, and the more tears sprang to his eyes. His Blastoise was so heavy…and he wasn’t strong enough to lift him…he only felt weaker and weaker as time wore on. He couldn’t do this himself. He had to get help.

“Hey,” he croaked over to the Pokémon, craning his head to try and see it but to no avail. He cleared his throat to try and even out his voice. “Hey…I need help.” Silence. It didn’t make a sound in response, almost like a ghost. The statement hung in the air, until Green felt the need to clear his throat again.

“Uh…hey, you there?” Nothing in response. It seemed as if this Pokémon wasn’t even living, breathing, moving. He could sense it there and feel its eyes on him, but that was the only indication it was still in the cave with him. “I need help.” He spoke to it again, his voice faltering and growing quiet as the realization that this Pokémon wouldn’t help him had begun to dawn on him.

“Please…help me.” His words were barely a whisper, and the only response he got was the slight shuffle of a rock, and then a breeze ruffling his hair. The feeling of being watched had vanished, and somehow Green knew that those piercing eyes were gone, and with them, so was the Pokémon.

He cursed in his head. He was completely alone now, save for his knocked out Blastoise on top of him. How did he even get into this situation anyway? He scoffed to himself; he didn’t even need to answer his own question. It was to get stronger. Always to get stronger, it was everything he did. All the Pokémon he caught, every battle he fought, all the long and hard hours of picking and choosing and training only the very best for his personal team…

And after all he’d done to grow stronger, he was still weak.

Weak, so very weak. A petty little human in a world far too strong for him. That had just been proven; defeated by a wild Pokémon, and now pinned to the ground by his own partner, unable to move. He wasn’t strong. He was weak…as weak as he’d always called Red. It was only shoving his feelings onto someone else, Green realized with a sigh. He’d always taunted Red and called him weak, to only hide that he himself was the weak one.

He tried moving his arm again, only to freeze moments later. The pain was only getting worse. His arm was beginning to throb now along with his head, and with every passing second he felt more and more tired. He couldn’t even get himself out of this situation, a situation he’d gone searching for himself, one that he’d gotten into and so rightfully deserved.

It had been him all along that was weak, and Red that was strong.

The tears that had been brimming in his eyes spilled over. He let them, for it wasn’t because of the pain he was crying. He was so weak…so weak, he couldn’t even hold onto his dream. He remembered at the start of his journey he had one goal. He wanted to best the Pokémon League, become the Pokémon Champion, and claim the title of the strongest trainer in the world.

It was all he wanted, and he had set his sights on the title the moment he had set foot outside his Gramps’ laboratory. He trained hard, he made his team as diverse as he could, he challenged the Elite Four and he won. He won, he beat the Pokémon League, and he became the Champion. For that short amount of time, he truly was the strongest trainer in the world and he had been so happy.

Then his rival showed up. He had known it would happen, of course. Somewhere deep down, he had realized that Red was strong, strong enough to challenge the Pokémon League. He had been expecting him, hoping for him, even. He was ready to beat him again, as they’d done when they’d first gotten their Pokémon.

He wasn’t expecting an easy battle. He figured it would come down to the wire and be just as thrilling as when they were younger, except instead of tiny Squirtle and little Charmander, it would now be Charizard and Blastoise, two powerful Pokémon obeying their trainers’ every command.

He just didn’t expect to lose.

It had been devastating, watching as his prized Pokémon, the one he had received from his Gramps, the one he had formed such a strong bond with, hit the ground so hard, felled by Charizard’s Fire Blast. The euphoria of being Champion had been ripped from his chest at that moment, and was replaced with only a sinking feeling, pure despair, one that made him want to scream and cry and wail to the sky.

Everything he’d ever wanted had been snatched away from him so quickly, and by the one person that he knew deep down had always been better than him. Even his own Gramps favored Red…he wondered what would’ve happened if he’d come out the winner. Would his Gramps finally be proud of him, ruffle his hair and give him a smile, before telling him he’d done a good job?

His Gramps was always on Red’s side, always so proud of him, always telling him how great he’d done and what a fine trainer he’d be, or how grown up he’d become. Never had he praised Green, but only criticized him for his faults, chastised him for not being more like Red. He remembered what his Gramps had said to him after that battle…

‘You foolish boy! The reason you lost is because you’ve forgotten to treat your Pokémon with trust and love!’

He sniffled. Had he really not loved and cared for his Pokémon? He always thought he did, that by paying so much attention to them and training them so they’d never be defeated in battle was his way of showing them his affection…but, if he truly cared for his Pokémon, would he let his Blastoise be hurt in battle like this?

No, of course not.

Green felt more tears begin to spill down his cheeks as his throat closed and it became even harder to breathe than it already was. His Gramps was right. He didn’t care about his Pokémon at all. All that training was overworking them. They were nothing but tools for him to grow stronger. He had used them and abused their friendship, and in the end, he still lost everything.

Why couldn’t he be more like Red? Red, so caring to his Pokémon. Red, always doing the right thing and helping others. Red, the favorite of his own Gramps and the new Pokémon Champion…Red had everything he’d ever wanted. All the fame and attention, the adoration, the recognition…it was all his now. It could’ve belonged to Green, very easily, but his own selfish desires got in the way.

The trainer shifted slightly under his Blastoise, ignoring the searing pain that he’d gotten used to some time ago. He heard an odd plastic scraping, a sound that was out of place among the shuffling of his clothing against the rock floors. Straining to glance down and see, he managed to get just a glimpse of red and sighed. He knew exactly what that was. It was the shattered fragments of his Pokédex, probably broken beyond repair, all its data and the records of the 148 Pokémon he had managed to catch gone.

Just another thing Red beat him at, he supposed.

But…it wasn’t Red’s fault that he would always win. No, Green thought, it was his own fault. If he were a good enough trainer, he’d catch all the Pokémon no problem. He’d be able to defeat the Pokémon League with one hand tied behind his back, and then manage to hang on to his title as Champion. His Gramps would care about him if he were a better trainer.

Everything would be better…if only he were better. In fact, he probably wouldn’t even be in his current predicament, crushed under his Pokémon. Though he knew it was no use, Green tried to wriggle out from under Blastoise again. Like the many times before, it didn’t bring him any closer to escape and only caused him pain. A fitting punishment, he thought, for a bad trainer and a bad grandson. If he ever got out of this, he promised himself he’d be better. He’d treat his Pokémon with love and respect, he’d always try his hardest at everything he’d do.

The trainer backtracked a bit. If he ever got out of it? He felt his chest grow heavy again as he thought of his own future; what if Blastoise never woke up and he could never escape, and he starved to death in this cave, all alone in the world without anyone caring about him? Would anyone even acknowledge he was gone? His other Pokémon? His Gramps? Red?

He didn’t know the answer to his question, and frankly, he wasn’t going to find out. He was going to get out of this, no matter what. He’d struggle for a week if that’s what it took. Starting now, he’d be a better person. He’d do his best to become strong like Red, both for himself and for his Pokémon, and if getting his Blastoise off of himself was the first way to do it, then so be it.

He shifted underneath his Pokémon for what seemed like the nth time. His actions seemed to get him nowhere at first, but he found that the more he squirmed, the more he found himself coming loose. All he had to do was free his arm, and then he could get a hold of the Poké Ball…

Green continued on for a few minutes, slowly but surely sliding out from under his Pokémon until finally, he’d succeeded. He was panting, shaking from the pain, and his eyes stung from how many tears he’d shed, but he was free. He wasn’t going to be weak anymore.

The first thing he did was inspect his hand. It was still there, and his fingers still flexed, though they were a bit tingly. His forearm was especially swollen and painful, and he momentarily wondered if he’d broken something before swiping his hand across his forehead. Sure enough, the back of his hand was smeared in sticky red fluid. Thankfully, it seemed the wound had stopped bleeding. Most of the blood had already dried and was caked to his skin and hair.

Green then reached down and managed to grasp Blastoise’s Poké Ball in his hand. The weight of it was comfortable and familiar, and he felt like he’d taken for granted how much he liked to hold it. He quickly recalled the still-fainted Pokémon to its ball, and let out a sigh of relief as the pressure was instantly gone. He sat up quickly-too quickly, however, for it caused his head to start throbbing again and he grunted, holding one hand to his forehead and gritting his teeth.

But he wasn’t done. He still needed to get back to his home, tell everyone what happened, and make good on his promise. He decided that no one needed to know what had plagued his thoughts during his time in the cave. Those were simply secrets he was going to have to keep to himself, or perhaps ones he may share one day when he felt comfortable enough.

Green took out a different Poké Ball and released his Pidgeot, which immediately gave a happy cry upon seeing him, before its joy died down and its eyes grew concerned. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” He reassured the bird, patting it on its head and giving it a small, short-lived smile. “I’m just…I’m sorry for how I’ve been treating you. But I promise I’ll make it up to you and everyone else-starting now! So, do you think you could take me to Gramps’?”

Pidgeot gave an excited cry and a dip of its head, lowering itself to the ground to allow Green to climb onto its back. He wrapped the arm around it that didn’t hurt as much, before it kicked off and soared out of the cave and into the open air. The trainer never thought he’d be so happy to see bright blue sky, but he found himself smiling as the wind whipped through his hair and the sun warmed his cheeks. He would soon be home, with his Gramps and with Red, and it was there he would try to grow stronger – the right way, and he would always –

Green was snapped out of his thoughts by a flash of gray at the edge of his vision. He immediately whipped his head around to search for the source of it, but couldn’t find anything that resembled that blurry form. Shaking his head, the trainer turned back to stare ahead. He didn’t need to see it to know it was there. He still felt its piercing eyes boring into his back as he flew towards Pallet Town and towards his new start.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time actually posting anything i've written anywhere so??? yeah hope it's alright


End file.
